


Prologue

by Aaron_The_8th_Demon



Series: Crushing the Doom Falcons [1]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Chaos, Chaos Headcanon, Chaos Space Marines - Freeform, Gen, Necrons, Original Chaos Warband, Original Character(s), Original Space Marine Chapter, Prologue, Space Marines, Theft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:41:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9530069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon
Summary: A rogue Chaos Sorcerer steals a device from a small tomb of Necrons, with potentially disastrous results.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The narrative that this prologue is attached to is actually based pretty strongly on a campaign I'm working on that my Chaos army will play against my boyfriend's Necron army (with some space marines as "AI").
> 
> For the masses of fans I have (all two of you anyway) consider this a teaser I guess.

Yashtiri grimaced as blood dripped out his ears underneath his horned helmet. He’d lived a long six and a half centuries, and had been a practicing member of the Cult of Tzeentch for almost every moment of them, but it took far more than that to truly master the art of sorcery on the level he was straining to achieve right now. He had entombed himself in the earth, floating like a fetus in its mother’s womb with his arcane staff in one hand and a stolen piece of xenos technology in the other.

All around him he felt the vibrations of hostile thought, both aware and unaware of his presence. He was being sought by the creatures he’d wronged, while at the same time above them was an Imperial semi-hive world. The loyalist citizens were going about their daily lives, he knew, blissfully unaware of the two enormous threats right under their boots - a Chaos Sorcerer of Tzeentch and a small necron tomb.

Yashtiri clutched the sphere against his breastplate, feeling the tiniest sliver of power from the Star Gods within it. It was a resurrection orb, and in obtaining it from the tomb he’d lost his entire retinue of cultists. But it mattered not. They hadn’t been a particularly unique group of followers and would be easily replaced, where the energy of the resurrection orb could bring unlimited power if he could only bring it to the right being to have it unlocked. Certainly Bolastepo, one of his contacts from the Dark Mechanicus, could aid him in that endeavor once he’d escaped this wretched planet.

 

Unbeknownst to Yashtiri, on almost the complete opposite side of the galaxy, there was a third threat to his plans. For at the same moment that he was psychically reaching through the Empyrean for Bolastepo and his obliterator cult, the plea for assistance was noticed by another powerful mind.

The message never changed hands between being intercepted and reported to the Chaos Lord, as Burax brought it straight to Kserdiek.

“My lord,” Burax acknowledged, bowing his head. “An interesting development has taken place.”

Kserdiek raised a hairless eyebrow: “Go on.”

“A rogue sorcerer has managed to obtain a necrontyr resurrection orb. What’s more, he is currently trapped on an Astartes recruiting world within the fringes of Segmentum Ultima.”

“I see,” Kserdiek nodded, his expression thoughtful. “And are you able to track the position of the loyalists who own the planet in question?”

“I haven’t, lord, but I will if you wish me to.”

“Excellent. This will be a perfect opportunity for us. Alert Khorase’vod, I wish to see all of my officers in the briefing chamber in one hour. I think we shall be headed in the direction of Segmentum Ultima very soon.”

“As you wish, my lord.”


End file.
